Condemned to The Night (Librairian)

[Ann_Page]

((I believe I was supposed to start? Please forgive me if I have posted this in the wrong forum

Anyway... here I go.))

It was quiet that evening. The snow was falling all around her and Sherra stared up into the moonlit sky as the tiny flakes drifted by, and through her face. She gave a small sigh as the families around her put out the lights and drifted off into their own dream worlds. As she was, Sherra was jealous of this-for she could not dream. A Phantom... A Phantom doesn't sleep. A phantom is forced to roam the earth- awake, invisible, able to be passed through, passed by, and completely ignored.

Sherra stood up on the roof that she was perched on, and focused her energy, so the wind would blow her hair around like a humans, rather than passing through her with that all too familiar chill. She believed the breeze to be warm, though she knew that she could not feel any other sensation than that of cold and ice. Phantoms do not need to feel warmth- the dead do not need to be consoled. If they wish for warmth, they should move on, and choose the path of hell, to suffer in that burning pit that every one is condemned to; But not Sherra. She has no place in this world- cursed by that witch and that evil king, she is unable to pass on- unable to continue to either heaven or hell.

Sometimes she would lie next to completely decayed corpses in their coffins, closing her eyes and imagining what it would be like to be in heaven. So much time on her hands, her hobbies became quite morbid- such as exploring crypts and visiting long lost graves, deep within the earth. She could pass through surely, though only through living matter- remaining on the same plane as the humans who breathed and laughed and loved. She was a ghost, a phantom, unable to do much else than wander.

And yet, she could not help but notice a small child wandering through the cold. Similar to the one she had seen before. The one who had told her as an 'angel' to save the people from the evil that was coming. It had been many years since that day. Though to Sherra, it had passed like mere moments. Nothing had happened- no evil- no monsters attacked the people she watched grow old and die, day after day. Perhaps the child was wrong? But as Sherra watched this new babe wandering around in the cold, she could not help but feel something, a forgotten memory of how to care and love- so she followed the child, being an invisible guide, to help her on her way to someplace warmer.

Eventually they came across a small family, and the girl huddled up against her mother and brother. Sherra smiled and drifted off into the night. She was glad that there was no evil here. These peaceful people- though deprived of proper nurishment- did not deserve any harm to come to them.

But that was when the evil started.

That was when they came.

Shadows arose as Sherra turned her back- it was too late when she whirled around to see the shadows killing and posessing the poor people. Innocent lives were thrown away and mutilated for the Shadows needs. The Shadow. That is what Sherra called them- evil demons who cared nothing about truth or light or love, but rather would consume all of those, and plunge everyone around them into darkness.

They were after her family now- she saw the little girl screaming in terror, and Sherra leapt at them in a rage.

"DAMN YOU!!" she screamed, tackling the shadow away and into the ground. The two fought in a wrestling match that seemed to last forever, time slowed, and Sherra felt the creature trying to pass through to another realm. But she held fast and let her rage grow as she battled and grappled him. "Leave these people alone!" her voice echoed in the void the shadow had brought her to. Her rage grew and she felt the solid hilt of an dagger of energy form in her hand. She took this moment to ram the blue sparking weapon deep into the core of the shadow. With a shriek, it writhed and then vanished.

Like a weight lifted, Sherra sighed and the dagger vanished. Her body rose higher and higher until when she opened her eyes, she saw that she was once again on the surface- with the families- and to her relief, she saw that the shadows were no longer there. She could feel their presence now- not here, but somewhere in the distance. Sherra had not killed them, but now she knew what she had to do. It was up to her, as the small child had said, to warn the innocents, as well as fight this evil, when they could not.

This was the time of the dark ages, and Sherra planned to put a stop to it.

(( Go ahead ))

[Librairian]

((OoC: Here you go, Annie. I hope you like it. To tell the truth, I’m nervous about this. I’ve read so much of your stuff, but, as far as I know, you haven’t read any of mine. Please, go easy on me. You really kind of threw me through a loop with this one. I was stumped. Oh, and don‘t worry, you‘re doing it right.))

BiC: There are a few things that can awaken nearly any kind dark creature. When asleep, these things will bring them into an instant state of awareness. Their eyes will slide open in a split second, often times going unnoticed by the ones who would fall into danger because of them. Specters, ghosts, wraiths, phantoms, poltergeists, and more almost always start haunting something whenever one of those things wakes them up. These are the kind of things that instill fear and uncertainty in creatures of the light, particularly in humans.

One of the things that can wake up a dark creature is a scream of terror, especially if it comes from a woman, and even more especially if it comes from a child. Miss Spider’s eyelids fluttered open. The dark of the night was a different kind of dark than the shadow of her closed eyes. Somewhere not too distant, she could hear someone screaming. She knew why she was awake. A wraith, whether a Spider Wraith, or just another black creature, couldn’t sleep through such a thing. Someone was screaming, which meant a free meal might have been close by.

Rolling over, she let herself fall from the complex web she had been fast asleep in. She dangled about a foot from the floor, hanging by a thread she generated before she fell. In a dreary state, she put her feet to the ground, and severed the thread. Had the scream been perhaps a little closer to her ears, she would not have been in such a sleepy state. But there was little she could do about where the screams came from. As long as it meant someone would die without her having to kill them, the screams were okay no matter where they came from. She began to drift toward the source.

Unlike many dark creatures, the body of a Spider Wraith is not cold by nature. Miss Spider felt a sharp chill after walking out into the streets. It wasn’t windy; just cold. She trod her boots through the snow, moving perhaps a few blocks before coming to a halt. The feeling of her feet not firmly sticking to the ground made her feel somewhat uneasy. She trod her boots onto the nearest wall. With a quick morph, she sprouted her four hidden legs. If she jumped from wall to wall, then she wouldn’t have to walk through the snow. In her eight limbed form, it took about the same amount of effort.

Through moonbeams and snow flurries, she made her way to where the scream came from. As she traveled, it became obvious that the moon would not glow any less brightly. Despite the cloud cover, the wind was not strong enough to blow the ether into the moon’s path. Though she did fancy having a shadow at night, a bright sky meant she was not hidden by the cover of darkness. Whether it was night or day, if anyone saw her, she was in trouble. How many legs she had did not make a difference. Her appearance alone was enough to get the hounds called on her.

But she found where the scream came from quickly. It was a small family. They were all huddled together, shivering. From cold or fear, though, was not easy to tell. There was one adult, a middle aged woman. There were two children. One was a boy, although he was practically a young man. One was a girl, a very youthful girl. Miss Spider licked her lips when she saw her. Young blood was always the best tasting. Though she had a personal preference for boy blood, a young girl always beat a young man. Her knees bent as she prepared to leap upon them.

No. Regardless of how delicious the child’s neck would be, it was something she could not do. Her knees bent as a reflex to seeing such a tasty looking person. She did not intend to do anything to them. Her hunger did not demand that she feed that particular night. Indeed, the Rage was not even close. It was too sad a sight to see, besides. Surely, if one of them disappeared, the other two would follow. She was not the type of dark creature that would destroy an entire family to satisfy one of her needs She simply frowned and crawled onto the nearest roof.

The Spider Wraith eyed the moon. The snow was falling all around her, and Miss Spider stared up into the moonlit sky as the white flakes drifted by, not showing when they hit her face. She gave a small sigh as she listened to the huddled family support each other. It was sad for her. Her kind were torn between eating and feeling. Humans were her kind’s food source. What six legged bugs are to eight legged ones, humans were to her kind. Ideally, that was their relationship. It got a little more complicated. Two friendly, intelligent, cordial beings have a greater destiny than eater and eaten.

Two dark creatures, however, usually have a much simpler destiny.

[Ann_Page]

Sherra sighed as she drifted on her back through the village, as if she were floating. Using up so much energy on that dagger, she realized that she couldn't hold a physical form very well. And so Sherra floated, watching as shadows slinked into homes and holes, devouring life and souls as they went. Parasites, slinking and stinking up the night with an aura that Sherra could not ignore. Perhaps being a phantom meant that she too was one of them. But she couldn't get those screams out of her head. She had to do something.

Suddenly, she felt a very dark aura to her right as she floated, and so casually turned her head to see what was causing this chill. A form seemed to be hanging in the shadows and Sherra felt as if it too could sense her while she gazed upon it. Sherra could not see quite what she was looking at but decided to keep her distance from it- whatever it was.

"Hello?" She asked cautiously. "Is anyone there?" She realized that some energy on her part was required for her voice to be heard so she landed with a bit of a waver and attempted to stand firm and in focus. Once again she looked into the shadows murmuring in a calm tone. "Can anyone hear me?" She felt herself slipping away as she should be drifting still, but her curiosity was keeping her going.

A wind blew through her and she felt a fallen leaf drift through her body. "Geh... I really do need to rest..." She thought, trying her hardest to keep focus. "Are you a shadow or something else?!" she called out as loud as she could, for she could feel herself fading, and her 'loud cry' was turning into nothing more than a quiet murmur. An echo that was dying slowly as the wind carried her words along. It was cold, and Sherra knew that if this being did not make its self known soon, she would soon drift off on the breeze, and fall asleep until her energy returned to her.

[Librairian]

((OoC: Sorry. My behavior has been a little inappropriate. All due apologies.))

BiC: “I feel like someone’s watching me,” Miss Spider said slyly. She spoke expecting someone to come out and surprise her. Her voice was sly. Were she to speak in a frightened -which she would admit voices in the night made her- or cautious manner, she would come off as a might vulnerable. To address someone who one can not see, it is usually better to talk confidently. Confidence in the stalked party often made the stalker feel like they had been found out. She did not check to see if anyone had revealed themselves, though. The sky held her gaze.

“Hello?” the voice on the air asked softly, “Is anyone there?” The Spider Wraith stood still, eyeing the sky for any sign of where the voice was speaking to her from. She did not see anything, but she kept her eyes open. “Can anyone hear me?” the voice on the air went on, even softer than before. She would have done more. For example, she would have talked back. Her experience had nothing to say about voices out of nowhere, though. She just stood on her six feet, looking just above the horizon. Perhaps the voice would fade away. Perhaps it was just a lonely ghost.

It did not. “Are you a shadow or something else?!” the voice demanded, although it demanded it quietly. They sounded like they were tired, like they were making demands freshly out of bed. Miss Spider could not abide the voice any longer. What if they felt threatened, or were hurt? She could not simply let them carry on in such a way. It did sound like the voice was directed at her, after all. “Can you hear me, Miss Voice on the Air?” she inquired, feeling just a bit odd directing her speech at nothing. The voice replied back, but it was too quiet to hear completely. It sounded like a yes, all the same.

“What are you?” she went on, pressing the voice for anything important, “Are you okay? Are you hurt, at all?” She did not get a direct response, but she did get something. An outline, and then an image, appeared on an adjacent rooftop. Perhaps it was a lonely ghost. She would have to wait to find out.

[Ann_Page]

Hearing the response Sherra strained to see the distant figure of what looked like a spider... or was it a woman? She could not tell, and her form was fading fast.

"Beware the shadows!" Sherra shouted, though it still was faint. She was fading fast, but used her energy to move closer- not rapidly, but just enough so this new creature could hear her. "Unless you are one... They are killing everything... corrupting all... There is not much time left. Get you and your family- if you have one- out!"

The wind blew through her and a chill ran up her spine- or was it from a slight fear of a darker sense she was catching from this form. "My name..." She tried to say, but the voice carried off. Stubborn though, and intrigued that she was having a real conversation with someone, or something for the first time she continued, "My name is..." Finally, mustering up all her strength, she moved forward and said, "Sherra... Nice to meet..." But her voice was gone. A small price to pay she had to admit... though annoying. Now she was a mere pencil sketch that if not looked for carefully, she could be passed over by any normal human being. Until her energy returned to her, she would be a hovering figure, lost amidst the wind.

Now she saw the woman for what she was being closer, and was frightened and fascinated at the same time. A spider wraith... amazing and beautifully dark, Sherra could not pull her eyes off of her. "I'm a phantom..." she tried to say, but it ended up with her merely mouthing these words. Sherra hoped this new acquaintance could read lips... even if those lips were becoming barely visible...

[Librairian]

OoC: Many apologies. I’m stricken with that Bloc many writers hate.

BiC: The Spider Wraith did not like at all the dealings that were taking place. This ghost spoke to her, but not just with words. This person’s forced sentences belay something forbidding, something unforgiving. She sounded as if she were raging against her silence, but simply could not move past it. The threats of the shadows, the warnings to move her family, the polite and mannered way she introduced herself. This ghost was not in a strong position. She spoke with urgency for a moment before frantically and politely stating who she was, using energy she looked no longer to have.

A woman’s outline hovered before Miss Spider’s face. It’s lips moved, but no sound came forth. It floated, but slowly sunk towards the ground. “I’m sorry, Miss Revenant,” she said, reaching out to grab the outline’s wrist, “But you’ll have to excuse me.” Trying to pull her closer, to keep her from sinking, her hand was only met with an odd iciness. It concerned her. This ghost was not even strong enough to accept the hand of another dark creature. “Your voice is too quiet for me to hear, darling” she continued, “Please, come just a bit closer, so I can read your lips.”

When the floating outline of a mouth moved closer, it only was able to whisper one thing before becoming truly silent. “I’m… Tired,” it murmured. The Wraith could only offer sympathy and a token gesture. “Then rest,” she said, “I know someplace dark, someplace safe. I’ve made my place there, for now. You could follow me or ride me. I’ll take you there. My name is Spider, and I am a Spider Wraith. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”